He couldn't respond when you asked him if the shade looked good. Frankly, all he could do was have his mind rendered a soft buzz, the world glowing a little as he stood with hands still in his pocket. The shade of red complementing your face.

Gojo Satoru was loved. Yet he didn't seek it. With time, as your secret feelings harbored and he realised you had them, he was surprised by how normal you acted about it. Especially when he'd drop hints that your feelings weren't returned. To prevent a confession that he may have to turn down, and prevent the loss of whatever you two had. Roommates. Partners. Equals.

Nothing relevant ever happened. Everyday was the same. Both of you slumping onto your couch tired out of your mind at the higher ups overworking you both, and playing political power despite them being weaklings. Both of you teaching the kids everyday, him teaching them energy flow and you teaching them combat. You smacking his head or about to punch him everytime he goofed on purpose. Softer conversations when it was just both of you, two pilalrs trying to hold a world together. Your feelings never came up. And he was thankful, because he couldn't process if he lost all of that. It was a pity he'd never see you the same way, after all.

Until you stood in front of him now, wearing only half of your classic uniform. A dress you wore for the infiltration mission. Some earrings on. But you wore lipstick. He's seen you wear a neutral pink before to add onto your day. But this was maroon. Some excess yiu used to pat onto your face to act as blush.

And it fit so well. It made you glow. The shape of your mouth so outlined and unmistakably attractive. He should've berayed himself when he realised what he thought, or even when you, who harbored your feelings and buried them, had blinked at him when he didn't speak.

Shortly after, you left for the mission anyway.

He was still staring into space, unable to get over that shade on your mouth, how you glowed. He rubbed his face.

You were so pretty.

He groaned.